


Inner Demons

by ScripStrel



Series: Michael Mell - Actual Demon [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Banter, Canon Compliant, Demonic Possession, Demons, Dialogue Heavy, Friendship, Halloween, I Don't Even Know, Light Angst, M/M, No real romance sorry, Not Beta Read, it's all subtext
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 12:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16387439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScripStrel/pseuds/ScripStrel
Summary: Jeremy Heere was in Hell.Or maybe not.Maybe Hell had come to him.Maybe it had always been there.





	Inner Demons

No one really knew this little thing about Michael Mell. He didn’t exactly try to hide it, but he also didn’t talk about it, and when he also just didn’t talk to people much at all, it was an easy enough way to keep a secret. Even Jeremy didn’t know for the longest time. 

He knew that Michael was a bit of a trickster. It made it really hard to trust him about anything that wasn’t life-and-death, because he’d probably turn out to be joking. He knew that Michael was a scary good liar. He’d helped convince Jeremy’s dad of so many things, keeping Jeremy from what probably would’ve been a lifetime of grounding. He knew that Michael tried really hard not to lose his temper, and that if he ever did, he’d go all recluse, saying he just didn’t want to fuck up and hurt someone. He knew that Michael was adopted, but that wasn’t weird. He knew that Michael was almost sinfully attractive. And not at all in an  _ I’m crushing on my best friend _ way. It was just a fact that everyone knew. It’s why he made a point of showing up to school in filthy, worn sweatshirts with bedhead and dorky glasses. He knew that Michael was basically a walking furnace, but that he always said he was cold. He knew that Michael was very firm about not being a skeptic when it came to supernatural shit, even though he’d question absolutely everything else. He was a textbook conspiracy theorist, who didn’t even buy into ghosts, and who loved talking about why the moon landing was maybe—probably not, but  _ maybe _ —a government propaganda scheme, but demons absolutely existed as far as he was concerned. 

Somehow, though, Jeremy couldn’t put it together until everything was falling apart. 

If it hadn’t been for Michael… Hell, he’d have been beyond fucked. 

It called itself a Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor. Revolutionary, untested, patent technology from Japan. 

Bullshit. 

It did a good job of keeping up the disguise, for sure. Electric shocks, beeping noises, speaking techno-shit about probability and security cameras, garbled Japanese when “shut off.”

But then there were the weirder things, like the ability to spit out a monologue Jeremy had never read, in Shakespearean English, which might as well have been Greek or Latin or German, for as well as he knew it. Yeah, yeah, Internet, but that had nothing to do with Jeremy not even noticing he’d said it. Or the weird super strength thing at the play, where he was fighting himself and Michael and everyone else and couldn’t get the upper hand over his own body, or the whole thing where Jake didn’t notice the pain of walking on his broken legs. 

Or the fact that no one actually knew where it came from. 

Funny that Halloween—arguably the worst night of everyone’s lives—would turn his world upside down in more ways than one.

“‘Sup?” Michael scowled up at him from the tub. 

“Michael?” Jeremy breathed, still shaken from his encounter upstairs, nevermind his best friend being a fucking dick and jumpscaring him in the bathroom. “I didn’t know you were invited to this party.”

Michael huffed. “I wasn’t.”

“Then why—?”

“You know,” Michael said, beer cans clattering on porcelain as he stood, “I’m kinda surprised you’re actually fucking talking to me. I thought I was gonna have to take you hostage or something.” He crossed his arms and glared. Jeremy didn’t meet his gaze. “Squip got your tongue?”

“It’s… off.”  

“Oh, is it now?” Michael stepped closer. There was fire in his eyes and heat spilling out from him. If Jeremy wasn’t drunk and at least mildly in shock, his heart would be in his throat. He’d never seen Michael like this. “It’s still going for the computer excuse?”

Jeremy stepped back. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I had this whole speech, too.” Michael laughed bitterly and leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair. His eyes were bloodshot. In Jeremy’s jumble, there was no way for him to know if it was from weed or tears, and his voice gave away neither. “An epic journey through twelve years of friendship, and finish it all up with an exorcism-type thing that would probably kill both of us if I did it wrong, and it doesn’t even have the decency to show up.”

“Wha—? I’m not  _ possessed.” _

Michael snorted. “You sure about that, buddy?” Somehow, the nickname burned. 

“Of course! I… Yes!” Jeremy’s head was swimming. From alcohol, he told himself, not quite sure he believed it. He’d barely had two sips. He puffed out his chest and sneered. “The fuck are you getting at?”

“You know, I could tell the minute I heard you screaming from across the mall.” Michael paced around the tiny room, talking with his hands, and Jeremy was half afraid he’d start shooting energy blasts with how agitated he was. A few months before, they would’ve laughed at the idea and started brainstorming superhero aliases and now the thought stung. “I could hear it all the way from Spencers. I’m pretty sure all of New Jersey heard your pterodactyl screeching. You sounded like a damn bat out of hell.” Michael chuckled to himself. Like it was a sick joke. Like it was just another prank that he was pulling. “That’s probably why it got you to ditch me as soon as it could. It knew I wouldn’t believe that supercomputer horseshit for a second.” He finally turned to face Jeremy, his eyes dark. “Not once I saw what you looked like with it.”

Jeremy’s mind latched onto that last part. “And what do I look like? Happy? Successful? Do I look like someone people actually like, Michael? Do I finally look like someone who matters?” Jeremy stepped closer to him and laughed, some crazed, unhinged laugh. “You jealous?”

“You look like a dumbass.” Michael didn’t react to the thinly veiled insults, instead going to sit on the closed toilet lid and crossing his arms. “And, more importantly, you look like a dumbass who’s one wrong move away from being the next Emily Rose.”

“I still don’t— _ ”  _ Jeremy shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You couldn't. It’s not like there’s anything online.”

“Which is weird, right?” Michael stood and started pacing again. “I mean, what’s not on the internet?” He stared Jeremy in the eyes, a crazed fire behind his glasses. “Oh, I know. All the stuff that’s considered a ghost story or paranormal nonsense. Yeah, all of that just gets filed away with the cryptid hunters. Probably the easiest way to keep people off the trail.”

“It’s not a demon!”

Michael’s expression darkened. “How would you know?”

“How would you? You’re probably just jealous.” Jeremy took a deep breath. Yeah, that was it. Jealous. That’s why Chloe had— That’s why he was having this fight. People were jealous of his new, better life.

“Believe me, I’m not.” Michael ran a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated breath. “Think, man. If it were actually an insanely powerful supercomputer, why would it be here? Inside you? Who makes a magic sci-fi pill to help a high school kid get laid?”

Jeremy crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Someone who’s trying to get rich off of teen insecurity? I mean, it sounds like a great business model to me.  _ Everyone _ would want to get in on it.” He glared at Michael. Michael, who was making this so much harder than it had to be. Who was really getting on his nerves. Getting in his way. 

“Look at you! It’s not even  _ on,” _ Michael did air-quotes, still adamant that the Squip was lying about the whole computer thing, “and you’re acting like a total puppet! I can practically hear you thinking that I’m crazy! And maybe I am, but you can’t possibly think that everything’s okay here! It’s messing with your head, dude.” He was staring him down. His breath was hot on Jeremy’s skin. Why did it feel like the walls of the bathroom were starting to close in?

“And what? You think I’m being brainwashed? Fuck off.” Jeremy was getting much better at willing his voice not to shake, actually, thanks to his recent electroshock training. Michael was usually the last person to make Jeremy’s internal panic bells go off, but Michael wasn’t usually hovering over him with fire and brimstone in his eyes.

“I think you’re making a huge mistake.”

“And I think you’re overreacting!” Jeremy pulled himself out of Michael’s death stare, heading towards the door. Michael moved to block his path, and Jeremy had to stop himself from shrinking back. Since when was his friend this threatening? “Maybe I got lucky,” he managed. “Is that so weird? With my history, I’d say the universe owed me one.”

“Oh, you think demonic possession is lucky? Okay, sure.” Michael’s voice dropped as he spat sarcasm. “I’ll just call up Bloody Mary and we can have a big ol’ party.” He waved at the mirror before he grabbed Jeremy by the shoulders and shook him. The contact burned.  _ “Listen _ to me!”

“Listen to yourself!” Jeremy yanked himself away. “Demons? Really? How the hell is that any more believable than a computer chip? In what universe? You’re the one who spends all his free time watching documentaries. You should know what sounds normal in the  _ real world. _ Since when are you a religion nut?”

“Oh,  _ I don’t know.” _ Michael was radiating heat now. All of Jeremy’s instincts were telling him to run. To run and hide before he got scorched. Something was  _ wrong.  _ This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t… 

For a moment, his panic said  _ this wasn’t Michael.  _ This wasn’t Michael, this was a trick. Or  _ this _ was the fictional devil creature that had killed his best friend and was going to get Jeremy next. But that was ridiculous. 

But it wasn’t the Michael he knew, that was for sure. Maybe the Squip was right.

“How about since  _ I’m _ a demon?”

Or maybe he was dreaming. 

Jeremy scoffed. “Yeah, and I’m Batman. You’re insane.” He even started  _ giggling, _ because how else do you respond to something like that? There was no way this was actually happening. “Insane and paranoid. Maybe lay of the weed, man. I’m  _ fine.”  _

Jeremy had a sudden urge to get out of there as quickly as possible. Maybe it was because Michael was still staring at him like he was about to rip his throat out. Maybe it was because, for as fucking insane as his claim was, Michael was admittedly never this serious about anything unless he was  _ serious.  _ Whatever the reason, there was a pit of dread collecting in his gut. 

Michael ran a hand over his face. “I was really hoping I would never have to do this.” He sighed. “Figures.”

“Seriously, move it. I’m missing the party.”

Michael met his gaze again, and Jeremy’s heart dropped into his stomach. Michael’s eyes were dark, but not. They were burning with some kind of hellish fury. His teeth were sharp, his mouth suddenly looking all too much like the maw of a shark or a wolf or something else that would gobble him up without a second thought. Jeremy wasn’t sure if he was imagining the silhouette of horns and wings and a tail behind Michael, but he was definitely looming even more than usual. The bathroom had gone dark, and the intense heat of their argument had frozen over, leaving a chill running over his skin. Michael was being distorted. His face was grotesque and unearthly. Jeremy’s every instinct had started screaming, becoming a screeching chorus of  _ what the hell? _ and his mind had gone blank to everything but impending terror. His knees were weak. His heart was about to explode. “Or you’ll what?” 

Michael spoke with the voice of a legion out of hell. 

Michael was…

What the  _ Hell? _

Jeremy couldn’t even tell if he was actually seeing his true form or whatever, or if his brain was just deciding that showing an eldritch, shadowy figure in the place of his best friend was the only rational thing in response to the waves of unadulterated fear creeping into his bones and fogging the corners of his vision. 

“G-get out of my way!” Jeremy’s voice shivered along with his soul. He had to get out of here. He pushed past whatever had become of Michael in a burst of adrenaline. “You  _ freak!” _

He left the demon behind, completely forgetting about the whole reason for the conversation. 

Completely forgetting about the devilish voice still sitting in his head.

Completely forgetting Michael’s warnings.

* * *

Jeremy groaned. The white lights of the hospital room were drilling holes in his aching head. Michael sat by his bed, looking over him with more concern than any of the confused nurses. It made something in Jeremy’s chest flutter a bit, and he tried not to notice the subsequent tempo change of the heart monitor beeps. “What happened?” Jeremy said, focusing on the pounding behind his eyes. “All I remember is that noise, and…”

Michael lit up. “Man, it was genius! I mean, kinda. Also super fucked. It was basically hiveminding it. There was only one, but it was possessing all of you.”

Jeremy decided not to think too hard about that. At least Michael hadn’t tried to overload him with a super detailed play-by-play of exorcism terminology. “Then how—? Since when can old soda kill demons?”

“Since my mom knows a guy.” Michael’s smile was infectious. “Didn’t want to blow my cover by bringing holy water, so I got this dude to bless the Red. Basically worked the same way.”

“Your mom knows a guy? Since  _ when?”  _ Seriously. Since when had Jeremy’s life been such a weird mess? It was like he’d fallen down a rabbit hole or something. Just, like… darker. Which was saying something, considering the terrible nightmares Alice in Wonderland had given him up until middle school.

“Since I showed up and made my parents take all sorts of precautions. They didn’t believe me that I might fuck up and go rogue or whatever, but they came around.” Michael’s words were careful and deliberate. His glee faded. His happy glow dimmed to something closer to a nervous shadow. A tingle crept along Jeremy’s skin. Oh.  _ Right. _

It’s not that he’d forgotten. He’d sort of just been… ignoring it?

He swallowed. “Um… yeah.” 

“Look, I’m sorry I sprung that on you—”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Let me finish.” Michael took a long, slow breath. Jeremy was holding his. “I didn’t mean for you to find out at all, really, but especially not like that.”

Because  _ that _ answered any of Jeremy’s questions. 

Despite what he’d seen, what he’d  _ felt _ in that bathroom, part of him had refused to let it sink in. Part of him was still thinking that it might’ve been a Halloween prank. Or a bad dream. Or a hallucination or anything other than what it was. Part of him still couldn’t imagine Michael as anything other than his dorky best friend, sitting next to him, fiddling with the cord of his ever-present headphones and looking anywhere but at Jeremy. Another part of him couldn’t shake the afterimage of that creature from his mind’s eye. No part could reconcile with the others. 

How was he supposed to respond to the reminder that Michael had basically been lying to him all this time? Especially when he remembered the other demon. When he remembered the chilling voices of his peers. His own chilling voice. His complete lack of control. The loathing burning in the entity masquerading as a computer that sounded like Keanu Reeves.

He’d been afraid then. Why couldn’t he convince himself to be afraid of Michael now?

“Why aren’t you…” Jeremy started, having no real idea of how to ask what he wanted to, “like  _ it?” _

A sort of relief washed over Michael. His shoulders relaxed and a smile creeped onto his lips, which made no sense, considering how much he’d despised the Squip from the beginning. Jeremy wouldn’t have thought that bringing it up would help the situation. “Because I’m a rebel. Total bad boy.” He chuckled. “‘Course, by Hell standards, that kinda means the opposite of what it does for you guys.”

The idea of a rebellious demon was funnier to Jeremy than it should’ve been. Especially because it was Michael, who always knew just how to cheer him up. Michael was always there to keep him sane, which was weird, considering… “So, like,” Jeremy said, “you could be anywhere, doing anything, and you’re hanging out with me?” 

Considering Michael was apparently a super powerful (or at least vaguely powerful, but Jeremy hadn’t gotten around to asking about that, yet) creature of darkness who could conceivably be the supreme leader of the universe if he felt like it.

Michael shifted in his seat, averting his gaze. “Yeah, man. That’s um…” he cleared his throat, “kinda the whole reason I’m here.”

“What?”

Michael seemed to be grasping for straws. “Think of it as like a guardian angel, but… not? I don’t fucking know how to explain it. Basically, I went through puberty for you, so you’d better thank me.”

A snicker came from behind the thin divider curtain next to them. Panic bells went off between Jeremy’s ears and sunk to simmer in his stomach. 

“...Shit, Rich is listening.”

Michael shrugged. “So?”

“So what about your cover?” Jeremy’s whispered freak out was a jumbled mess. It was a wonder Michael could understand him. “If he knows you’re a… If he knows you’re not human, then—”

“Chill.” Jeremy must’ve gone pale at the word, because Michael’s eyes widened in concern. “Sorry,” he said. “Poor word choice.” He cleared his throat. “Most people already kinda knew. You were just super oblivious. I’m sure your dad found out when you were like, seven, because we tried to prank him for Halloween and I did the whole bit with flying furniture and voices and I think we even pulled out the Ouija Board.” Michael started giggling as he told the story. 

Jeremy relaxed as Michael’s bright, warm laughter washed over him. A laugh of his own bubbled up from his chest. “Oh, man, I remember that… How did I not notice?” 

Seriously. That’s like, the most stereotypical demon thing in the book. He really was an idiot.

“Because that was back when you thought your house was haunted.” Michael punched him lightly on the shoulder. Jeremy swatted him away.

“And how much of that was actually you, dude?”

“Shut up! A guy’s gotta have some fun once in awhile. I only made you hear voices coming from the walls  _ once. _ You’re the one who fell for it so hard.”

Jeremy’s head still hurt, and he’d probably still be hearing voices for the rest of his life, but he decided that for all his inner demons, both literal and figurative, he’d give up his sanity and everything else to have Michael around forever. 

He wasn’t about to tell him that, though.

“Go to hell!” Jeremy said, snickering. 

“Pssh. Been there, done that.” Michael’s eyes glinted behind his glasses and he flashed Jeremy a shark-toothed smile, and Jeremy couldn’t help his giggles. 

**Author's Note:**

> I seriously debated between romantic and platonic Boyf Riends. Have some subtext for something maybe in the middle.  
> I may or may not write a thing later featuring Demon!Michael as a side character to a Jeremy/Brooke thing. That had been the initial plan for this, but I got carried away.  
> As always, I adore comments and kudos.  
> Thanks!


End file.
